


Begin

by lookninjas



Series: Children's Work [8]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:30:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8529595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookninjas/pseuds/lookninjas
Summary: It's a Wednesday in early January when Poe finally gets tired of waiting and decides to just do something.





	

It’s a Wednesday, early January. Poe is sprawled out on the couch in Ben’s apartment; Ben is sitting on the floor in front of him, back against the couch. He’s close enough for Poe to play with his hair, dragging his fingers slowly through the thick, soft mass of it. He’s been doing it for at least an hour, long enough for Ben to go soft and pliable under his hands. 

He’d be so easy to kiss.

Poe wants to kiss him so _much_.

And he’s finally tired enough to do something about it.

“So I was thinking,” he says, and tugs lightly at Ben’s hair. It gets him Ben’s attention, immediately -- he twists his head back as far as he can, giving Poe his profile. The hawklike nose, the full lips. The dark smudge of his eyelashes. “I really want to kiss you right now. But logistically, it’s kind of a funny angle, so either you’re going to need to turn around, or I’m going to need to get into your lap, or something. Because this isn’t going to work like --”

Ben turns away again for a moment. Pauses. And then he’s rising up onto his knees, turning to crouch over Poe, dark hair hanging down in a curtain over his face. One hand settles lightly on Poe’s shoulder. “Like this?” he asks.

“That’ll work,” Poe decides, and twines his fingers in Ben’s hair again, using that grip to drag Ben down the last few inches, keeping his eyes open long enough to see Ben’s finally flutter shut in the moment before --

Their lips touch. 

Ben’s hand tightens around Poe’s shoulder; he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. He hasn’t kissed anyone since Hux, over thirteen years ago now; it shows a little. Ben has soft lips and no idea what to do with them, no idea what to do with his hands or anything at all, but that’s all right. Poe can teach him. He leans up a little, and Ben presses down; he tilts his head and Ben shifts to mirror him. Ben’s lips part, no prompting necessary; Poe tightens his grip on Ben’s hair and bites lightly at his lower lip. Ben shudders; his other hand lands on the couch just by Poe’s ribs, holding him upright. Poe just pulls him down even harder, pushes up against him, scratches fingernails against his scalp and traces his tongue against the seam of Ben’s mouth, and Ben lets out a soft, lost noise that makes Poe’s mind up for him.

“Lap,” he mutters, using his grip on Ben’s hair to push him back again, enough for Poe to slither off the couch and settles his thighs over Ben’s, watching him sink down as Poe rises up. “Lap, lap would be better, definitely --”

Ben’s legs are all hard muscle under his; Ben’s hands grip his waist and Poe dives back in again, wallowing in it -- Ben’s hair, Ben’s lips, and now Ben’s chest firm against his, Ben’s powerful thighs, and when Poe rocks forward just a little bit --

Ben’s breath catches in his chest. His hands tighten around Poe’s waist in sudden spasm. His mouth goes slack. “ _Oh_ ,” he breathes. “Oh. I --”

“Yeah?” Poe asks, and does it again, just the smallest shift of his hips, and Ben’s whole body shudders. 

“I --” Ben’s ears are brilliant red; when Poe pulls back a little, Ben’s looking off to the side, almost shy. Nervous, maybe.

Poe backs off a little -- not a lot, just a little, easing back into safer terrain. “We don’t have to,” he says, rubbing the tip of his nose against Ben’s. “We can… Work up to it, maybe. If you want. Or we can just make out; that’s good too. It’s not like I wasn’t enjoying myself. I was. Trust me.”

“I noticed,” Ben says faintly, and Poe laughs a little, forehead resting gentle against Ben’s. “I -- It’s not that I don’t want to. Just… Maybe not in the first five minutes?”

It’s possible that Poe got a little ahead of himself. “How about ten?” Poe asks, and when Ben laughs, Poe pushes back in to kiss his laughing mouth. Ben’s got a great mouth, wide and wet and eager, and Poe kisses all the laughter out of it, drinking it in. He drags his own lips down to the corner of Ben’s jaw, then over to the soft skin of his earlobe, and Ben shudders again. “All right?” 

“Yeah,” Ben says, a little distantly. His hands press against the small of Poe’s back, pulling him in closer. “Yeah, just…”

Poe takes Ben’s earlobe between his lips, grazes it with his teeth, then kisses up the curve of Ben’s ear and finishes with a long, slow sigh. 

Ben whines softly, deep in his throat. 

Well, that’s good to know.

Poe files that one away for later and starts kissing his way down Ben’s throat, dragging his lips over the stubble under his chin and the protrusion of his adam’s apple, all the way down to the wiry muscle where the neck meets the shoulder. Ben sighs and makes soft, humming sounds -- nothing quite like the response Poe got from Ben’s ears, but enough to suggest that he’s enjoying himself. Poe tugs the collar of Ben’s sweater out of the way, enough to nip at Ben’s collarbones, but he wants more than that. 

If Ben’s willing to give it, of course.

He tugs at Ben’s collar again. “I’d like to take this off,” he says. “If that’s all right with you?”

Ben bites at his lower lip. His cheeks are flushed now, ears bright pink. “You first,” he says, and Poe grins. 

“You wanna do the honors?” he asks. “‘Cause I’d be happy to strip for you, if you wanted. Maybe even do a little --”

Ben’s lips on his shut him up. Then Ben’s pulling back again, dark eyes downcast as his hands work at the buttons on Poe’s shirt, one at a time. He has big, glorious hands -- Poe wants them on as much of his skin as they can possibly touch. Lucky for him, Ben’s not interested in taking his time or teasing; as soon as he’s got Poe’s shirt open, those hands are pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms, fingers grazing Poe’s bare skin and it’s way, way better than someone touching his arms should be.

It’s been a long time since Poe wanted someone this badly.

Once Poe’s down to his undershirt, Ben hesitates; his hands trace their way up Poe’s bare arms again, and then back down -- light, careful touches. He stares at Poe’s undershirt like he’s trying to burn it off him with his eyes alone. Finally, when even Poe’s patience is starting to wear a little thin, Ben’s hands find the hem of Poe’s undershirt. His eyes flick up to Poe’s, questioning.

Poe nods. 

Ben takes one last deep breath, then starts working Poe’s shirt up his torso. He’s not hurried about it, doesn’t rush. Nervous, maybe, or savoring the moment, or both. Poe remembers, again, that this is further than Ben’s ever gone with anyone before. As long as he’s waited, this is probably something of an event for him. 

Poe raises his arms. Ben’s fingers skim his sides, a ticklish touch that makes Poe hiss, and then there’s white cotton obscuring his vision, ruffling his hair, and then -- off. Ben tosses the shirt to the side, turns back to Poe. His lips part a little. His eyes are very wide and very dark.

There are a lot of things Poe could say in this moment. He doesn’t say any of them. 

Finally, Ben’s hands land on Poe’s waist, and Poe shivers. Big, hot hands, a little calloused but tremendously gentle. He strokes up, over Poe’s chest to his collarbones. One thumb grazes a nipple on its way back down, and Poe’s breath picks up. Ben glances up at him again, then rests a hand on Poe’s sternum, watching it rise and fall with Poe’s breath. 

His arms wind around Poe’s back, hands spreading out to cover as much skin as they possibly can, and he pulls Poe back in. His sweater is rough against Poe’s skin, but his lips are soft and wet and hot and his hands feel so fucking good, and there’s just this strength to him, and Poe falls into it all -- Ben’s tongue and his hair fisted in Poe’s hands and the way he can’t help his hips straining up again in little twists, seeking. 

Then it’s Ben’s turn to kiss his way down Poe’s neck, mimicking the way Poe had done it -- the drag of his lips (Ben’s lips so soft, his wide mouth covering so much more skin than Poe is used to) and then the graze of his teeth along Poe’s collarbone. Kisses down his sternum, one delivered with great solemnity right over Poe’s heart. Ben’s back hunches. His mouth finds one of Poe’s nipples. He breathes hot over it, touches it carefully with just the tip of his tongue. 

Poe’s breath catches again, and Ben looks up at him, somehow awed and smug at the same time.

“Yeah?” he asks, just as Poe had asked him earlier. It’s somehow strangely adorable.

“Yeah,” Poe says, because he doesn’t need five minutes at all, and then adds, “You can be rougher, actually. If you want. You don’t -- But I like it a little rougher. There.”

Ben’s eyes go wide -- his shoulders heave under his sweater. For a moment, Poe thinks that _rougher_ is something Ben’s not going to be able to give him, but then Ben’s mouth is there again, teeth this time, scraping over Poe’s nipple, biting down lightly.

“Yeah,” Poe says again. Encouragement is never a bad thing. “Yeah, that’s -- Good. That’s good.” And it is. A tease -- Ben is visibly nervous, and remarkably careful -- but Poe likes getting worked up that way sometimes, the uncertainty of it. He likes trembling on that knife edge without quite falling over. “Ben --”

Ben kisses over Poe’s heart again, then draws back enough to grab his sweater and the t-shirt underneath with both hands and yank it off over his head, tossing them across the room. He pulls Poe back in again, chest to chest, and he’s big, and muscular, and a little sweaty, and it’s fantastic. Especially when they start kissing again, with Ben’s big hands spread over Poe’s back and Ben’s hips working in little pulses and Ben’s mouth open and wet and hungry. 

It’s good. It’s so good.

It’s getting really, really hard for Poe to keep his hips still. Especially considering how hard everything else is getting. Seriously, Ben’s jeans have to be ridiculously uncomfortable by now. 

He tears himself away from Ben’s mouth to breathe into his ear again, and Ben moans, and that’s such a pretty sound, and Poe just wants to hear it again and again and again. He wants a lot of things.

But he’s gotta ask, first.

“You can say no to this,” he says, lips grazing Ben’s ear with every shift in syllables, and the noise Ben makes then isn’t a moan exactly, but it’s still just fucking delicious. “But I really want to give you a handjob, Ben. Tonight. If you’ll let me. We don’t have to do it right now, we can --”

Ben’s hand goes for Poe’s fly, pops the button at the top open, and Poe can’t help pushing into that touch a little. Ben’s got such big hands, and they’re gonna feel so good on him. 

“Okay?” Ben asks, breathless, against Poe’s neck.

“Yeah,” Poe says, and then his zipper is sliding open tooth by tooth, and it’s almost enough to distract him from his original purpose. Almost. “Can I --”

“Yeah,” Ben says. “Yeah, you can --”

Twenty seconds of awkward fumbling later, they’re both exposed to the open air, staring down at each other with wide eyes. It feels new, somehow, with Ben. Like something he’s seeing for the first time, the way Ben is obviously seeing it -- lips parted, gaze rapt, like he’s just discovered some beautiful secret. 

He reaches out. His hand closes around Poe’s dick, and it’s clumsy and a little too loose, but it’s still so good Poe could damn near cry. 

It could be better, though. Poe wants it to be better, for Ben, if not for him. “Here,” he says, and scoots in a little bit, until Ben’s knuckles are grazing his own shaft. “Let me just --” He takes Ben’s hand, guides it to wrap around both of them, and Ben’s eyes fall shut, and he sighs. It’s exquisite -- the two of them pressed together, hot and tight and close -- and Poe lets his hips rock up a little bit, rubbing against Ben.

“Oh God,” Ben breathes, and buries his face in Poe’s shoulder. His hand tightens around them just a little, not too much, and Poe covers Ben’s hand with one of his and keeps pushing. It’s a little dry, maybe, a little rough, but it’s still so fucking good. Then Ben’s hips join in, uneven and stuttering, and Ben starts sucking at Poe’s collarbone and Poe can’t help but bite Ben’s earlobe, breathing heavily against him, and, well.

Neither of them lasts too much longer after that.

The comedown is something else again: Ben slumped against him, panting, sweaty. Poe holds him as best he can with one arm, wishes he’d thought to grab a towel or something before they really got going. He’d like to clean up enough to at least be able to hold Ben properly, without worrying about smearing his sticky hand all over Ben’s bare skin. But he can’t bring himself to move away from Ben even an inch, and there’s nothing within easy reach to wipe them off with. So he stays where he is, his sticky hand and Ben’s sticky hand joined in their laps, his other arm wrapped loosely around Ben’s back and Ben’s arm wrapped around him, his cheek resting against Ben’s soft hair. 

“You realize you’re never getting rid of me after this,” he says, and Ben kisses his shoulder.

“I realized that a while ago,” he says. Then he pulls back a little, enough to look Poe in the eye, and says, “You know I don’t want to anyway.”

Poe kisses him again. It’s all the answer he has. 

He’s pretty sure it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been picking at this fic over the last week as a means of distracting myself from my country's descent into the darkest timeline. I'm posting it now for anyone else who might need a distraction.


End file.
